Yuri Worlds
[6] Visions
Chika fussed with her phone and gave a long sigh. Their host noticed and asked if everything was all right. Snapping on a protective smile, she downplayed the problem. Yuka smiled back and didn’t press the issue.
Feeling a rough tickle, Chika cleared her throat and opened a bottle of water from her bag. Subtle, translucent qualities, softly shaded by her hand in gentle, greenish blue, twinkled and twisted as she drank. Misaki mulled over how swiftly its remarkable qualities had already been relegated to the mundane. Just a bottle of water, just a simple bag, just a bench beside the train tracks. All the living anime girls around deserved awe and curiosity, but the world itself was saturated by painterly promise.
At the same time, Misaki lamented gawking. They were people but also wonders. This was why they came. So many difficult, contrasting notions pinballed around her tired head. Don’t let any precious vision go unappreciated. Don’t make it weird. Challenge Yasha‘s dismissal. Remember, this is an everyday world.
Misaki pondered whether this was one of those warned about side effects. Nope, just a side effect of still being Franklin underneath. Not that she didn’t want to be the person she was. It was inescapable. She just hoped that her main ego might take a vacation from its most frustrating qualities. Play up the created character of Misaki. Earn the kind of appreciation she received from the clerk. Did her response fit? Neither Yuka nor the clerk appeared bewildered. Her shyness and demure body language evoked Franklin but played naturally across Misaki. At least from his perspective.
Without men, what did that do to things like yin and yang? None of the documents they sent with them really touched on cultural norms, at least as far as she skimmed them. But then she doubted her powers of perception. A relatively recent memory returned, like a persistent boomerang, from Franklin‘s last birthday. His aunt, his last real surviving close relative, sent along a gift. It took loads of determination and pestering from Guy to set him on his heart-racing way to the regional mail drop-off.
Unwrapping the brown packing paper, he discovered a tightly sealed box of large umbrellas. Quite useful, sort of. It had been relatively rainy last season. Dwight had been fighting an endless war against wild grasses behind the garage to keep them from spreading further. Just a few weeks ago, his regular umbrella ripped its spring, leaving it loudly squeaking and not able to remain open on its own. He texted a simple note of thanks to his aunt.
This note was followed up by a long string of emojis and her fuming that he didn’t open it. Puzzled, Franklin tore open the box to discover the contents were actually a Living Bible and a card that meowed. A far more typical gift she would send. He wrote back an amended thanks and a half-hearted explanation about being tired.
Franklin actually sifted through biblical texts several years prior. He got hung up on what felt like continuity errors. One telling of the beginning of everything, then another draft of it. He wanted to figure it out. Seeking the precise details of every word consumed so much of his time that he eventually had to put it aside. In contrast, he’d run into this version before, and it felt so vague and soulless that he practically expected it to read, “Jesus died, then, after three days, He stopped doing that”.
A few days later, Guy actually got him a silver umbrella with a strong, satisfying click when it sprung into place. And Dwight made them a massive meatloaf. The part he really remembered, though, was how he disappointed his aunt by just assuming the contents of the gift.
Yuka stretched and rubbed her eyes before smoothing out her uniform. How much had she missed in pointless reflection on a life and details she should’ve set aside for the next two weeks? Yuka alluded to uploading the cards onto phone accounts and gestured vaguely south toward their destination.
“It’s a gorgeous day this morning! I’m glad we can all share in it!” She resisted a bow but beamed warmly over the four of them. Yasha appeared eager to retort but ultimately held her tongue. It didn’t take long before the sleek, polished pearl-tone train eased its way into the station with soft and steady chimes. Everyone hustled to make sure they didn’t leave anything behind as the crowd swelled with a rainbow of active and energetic girls. Something overhead read and debited their cards automatically.
The interior felt vast and yet tight, hermetically sealed and carefully connected to the silent vistas all around. Yasha separated from the group, lingering in the central area while the rest of them found a comfortable bench towards the back. Yuka scampered between the split group and made sure that Yasha knew where their stop would be.
Chika’s fiddling finally paid off as she released a breath and announced to the others, “Now my phone is working. From whatever they did.” She fanned the screen around. The wallpaper had reverted to the original stock, and the icons acquired a cel softness, but it was recognizably Guy’s phone layout.
“Whatever they did?” Misaki echoed her words as a question. She just lightly checked her phone before returning it to her bag. It came out to send information to the clerk, along with everyone else’s, but she hadn’t done much with it since arriving.
Chika elaborated, “They put stuff on it. Like an artificial client running on top of everything else. I could access my apps, but they were filtered. But I got around it with Face ID. Despite not… despite everything.” She flicked her eyes to the nearest girl, slowly ambling to the next train car.
Misaki felt nervous about all that. Not because someone on the train might overhear, but thinking about all the warnings and regulations the company slapped on everything. Did Chika really need to circumvent whatever was on there? They just got here. Couldn’t she just play along? She took a breath and considered how to express all that.
“Are you sure it’s not related to the sponsorship? Was there anything in what you signed?”
Namiko gingerly got up from her seat with her legs together. With slow but purposeful energy, she went over to where Yuka was organizing her grocery bags and chatting with Yasha about something related to shrines. Barely above a whisper, Namiko inquired about the bathroom.
Yuka clearly recognized something in her expression and body language and quickly set an arm on her shoulder. She pointed out the area at the end of the cabin with a restroom designated on each side. Instead of human figures, it had a basic rendering of a toilet. Almost as an aside, Yuka inquired if Namiko had a handkerchief with her. She shook her head, her legs cautiously shifting. Swiftly, Yuka reached into a small side pocket of her skirt and retrieved a folded, black handkerchief decorated with dancing puppies. Namiko carefully held it in her hands and rushed over to the restrooms. Soon after that, there was a gentle chime and an announcement that the train was leaving the station.
Yuka gripped a handhold and carefully guided herself into the seat almost across from them. Sunbeams, sneaking through gaps in the overhead shelter, traced over her face, and the light played through her hair like spectral fingers. She flinched and squinted, carefully looking out. Misaki watched the way that the light permeated her locks, twinkling through them. Like this, they made Misaki think of gray on the edge of brown rather than black.
The girl gently leaned her head against the window. When it touched the glass, she straightened up and clung to the seat. Her vast, brown eyes slowly narrowed as she looked out at the city flowing past. Misaki watched too, knowing it was futile to even begin to absorb all the details of the buildings. A multi-tiered castle just barely revealed its highest pinnacle, shrouded in the mists of the morning. Chika turned her phone to landscape and tried to capture it with the camera. Yuka noticed and checked behind her before scooting to the right and crouching down so that more of the window was unobstructed.
“I love the view. But it almost seems like too much. Too much to see. Too much to make sense of…Oops. You probably don’t want my voice in your video. Sorry.” She ducked down even smaller. Chika flashed a polite smile and assured their host it was fine. “It’ll be a montage over whatever music I can use. Edited like a travel video.”
Yuka grinned. “Sounds fun. Will it be….on YouTube?”
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“Yep! Well… Our version. Probably. But they might let me share it after I’m done making it. They want to promote travel. So, I want to make sure I capture as many wonderful things here as possible.”
The girl’s massive eyes looked like they increased severalfold as she drew in a breath. “Really?! That’s so cool! I would be honored to see whatever you can show. And I’m excited to hear that we might get a bunch more visitors. It would be great to open things up. And there are so many wonderful things that you can see. I mentioned those shrines and the castles, and there’s this beautiful shopping arcade just a little bit further past where I live. We have a gorgeous stream. And the mountains. The mountains have the most wonderful hot springs! And food! My moms are amazing cooks, but Maharu, the miko I mentioned who loves to dance… don’t tell anyone… I think she’s even better. She’s very interesting. There’s gonna be a bunch of things for Golden Week. You need to film those too! Then everyone will know how great it is here!"
Each word felt like an engine inside Yuka revving up to greater power levels, pulling and propelling her forward despite remaining in her seat. Chika’s careful smile deepened with genuine sentiment. Changing apps, she made a few quick reminders to preserve the flood of information. Misaki rested her gaze on the sharp and soft tones of the world outside the windows.
Yuka was right, Misaki resolved, it was way too much. Large swaths of the landscape blurred by, with breathtaking detail even in motion. Massive apartment complexes with fluttering laundry hanging across porches. Electric lines providing chaotic borders. A parking structure that looked like a child patched it together. One building especially mesmerized Misaki, as it looked like folded transparent origami with high ridges that rushed through the slats of a metal fence. Trees filled the rest as a voice overhead explained upcoming stops, noted delays, clarified which side would be opening, and wished them all a beautiful day.
It wasn’t all beauty though, as a rusty, grimy bridge passed over them. Namiko unlocked the bathroom and walked back. They could hear sounds of deceleration as they eased into another station. She thanked Yuka for the handkerchief and motioned to return it, but their host held up her hand and encouraged her to keep it for now. “I have several.“
The current station was a little busier than the last one and also appeared to contain several islands packed with drink vending machines. Several cheerful, energetic anime girls hurried through the open doors. One dressed in jeans and a floral print skirt especially caught Misaki’s eye. She had on a white facemask, which puzzled her. Did they have troubles over here? She desperately hoped that illnesses didn’t pass between universes, but what would stop them?
Their host relayed that they had ten more stops along the way, but it would go very quickly. Despite how cordial she was, Misaki noticed that she continued to sit opposite them even with open seating on their side. Looking over, she opened her mouth to ask if Yuki would like to sit with them when something shifted in the shadows. It was a mass—a black mass exactly the size of that spiky, sea anemone creature. Why had it followed them?!
Feeling a tangled ball of confusion and anger, she immediately hopped to her feet. Unfortunately, the train doors were already sealing shut with a gentle chime, and the cabin beginning to ease forward. The woozy shift made her plop back in place and puffed whatever words out of her. Namiko looked like she briefly considered wielding her massive pillows to catch her friend, but she just set her arms around her instead and asked if she was all right.
Misaki nodded silently to everyone, but Yuka burst in with concern, “Oh my gosh! What happened to your finger?”
She frowned and looked down at her hands. A bright mark, like a single circular dab of red paint, swelled from her fingertip and trickled like a brushstroke down her colorful digit. Before she could really worry about it, Yuka hopped up from her seat and rushed over to attend to her.
This girl, with her practically shimmering, soft flesh, grabbed her equally soft hand and inspected the damage. It was just a little cut. Oddly, she noticed that it seemed to be in the same spot where Franklin received a non-bleeding cut last Friday. Wouldn’t all the changes fix that, or wouldn't it have healed since then? At least it didn’t sting.
“Come on,” Yuka encouraged. “Let me get you cleaned up.” She gestured to the bathroom area at the back. Quietly, she used her ‘uninjured’ hand to grab the dangling loop to get up with the motion and shifting of the train. When she let go, Yuka automatically seized her hand. Her grip avoided the wristband. She didn’t drag her, nor did she go as slow as Misaki was expecting. Among a cavalcade of crazy sensory and psychological experiences to reconcile, this one felt like it was crashing into every feeling in her body like a ringing bell.
A cute anime girl was leading her by the hand, and they were about the same height. The same girl had welcomed her with a big hug. And she was an anime girl too. All this was normal. Somehow. Moving her legs kept them from trembling so badly she might fall over.
The bathroom was as cramped as Misaki should’ve expected. Pressing a little button beside the door made it slide open. Yuka augmented the experience with a little sci-fi “whoosh” noise. She smiled sheepishly. Misaki smiled back. Franklin occasionally took the commuter train on day trips. That bathroom was especially cramped, but this seemed more like one on an airplane. The two of them fit, but without much wiggle room.
Yuka brought along a small first aid kit from her bags. She set it on the narrow countertop. A metal basket near the door looked like a spot for storage. The toilet was mostly metal with a rose-tinted seat. It didn’t tilt up like a normal one but seemed more like a dense sheath. A tampon dispenser next to it made her heart pick up its pace.
Their host made her carefully wash up in the sink with soap. She spritzed the spot with something, but it didn’t burn like hydrogen peroxide. After that, she applied anointment and then rummaged through the box until she found a wide bandage. It was covered in little, sleepy puppies.
Misaki inquired, “You like dogs?”
Immediately, Yuka leaned forward and emphatically relayed, “I love them!!! Big ones, small ones, droopy ones, pouty ones, fluffy ones, wrinkly ones, dark ones, bright ones, fast ones, and slow ones! All sorts of dogs. I’m glad where you’re from has dogs. That already makes it an even better place.” She made sure the cute bandage was secured around Misaki‘s finger and smiled warmly.
Because of the lack of space in the bathroom, they were incredibly close. Close enough that their limbs accidentally brushed when they turned. Misaki urged herself to be especially careful of all the rounded parts. She turned to leave when Yuka reached for her hand again.
They were there together, so close that Yuka practically overwhelmed everything she could see. Their light, subdued scents filtered and wafted between each other. Yuka shut her eyes, leaned even closer, and took a long breath in. Her eyes gently fluttered open.
“Dogs have an amazing sense of smell. I’m nowhere close. But I have an okay sense of smell. This probably sounds weird… But you smell like a good person. Sorry. Is that weird?” Yuka looked quietly nervous with her arms tucked down in front of her. Misaki vigorously shook her head and reassured her that it wasn’t…that weird. She definitely had the exuberance and loyalty of a dog.
Misaki tapped the opposite button from the one Yuka used to lock the door when they came in. To her surprise, the little hallway was pitch black.
All signs of the outside world faded away. It was like a dense, suffocating material enshrouded the world. Nervously turning towards the cabin, she desperately struggled to catch sight of her friends. It was too dark. Everything was lost to shadow. Struggling to breathe, she could just barely discern shapes sprawled across the floor. Human shapes. They weren’t moving.
In the distance, piercing through the veil of blackness, a set of red eyes turned towards her.
“… What’s wrong?”
Yuka’s voice. Misaki gulped and blinked furiously. Back. Everything was back to the way it had been moments ago. Leaning forward, she could easily see the others where they had left them. Yuka was right next to her, nervously squeezing her right hand. It wasn’t real. Just something in her head.
…Right?